Posted 15 October 2011 - 12:52 PM
Maaike was returning from a small village north-east of Hesia, an unconscious Anyelos tossed over and tied to Cailean's saddle. She'd been forced to tie his wings tight to his back; they'd flopped around so much at such an awkward angle, she'd been worried about doing him a serious injury. Considering that his crimes were fairly minor (he was a thief), she'd had more consideration for his future than she would if he'd been a murderer, but mostly she didn't want to have to explain to the Guard back in Hesia why her bounty would never be able to fly again.
For the first couple of hours after she and the azani had ambushed him, he'd done nothing but chatter. He'd tried begging, pleading, bribing, threatening — and even seducing at one point! — but Maaike had gritted her teeth and forged on, trying to ignore him. When he'd started screaming and yelling for help, she'd laughed: Who did he think would hear him out here in the wilds? But then he'd attracted attention from a small pack of kelpie wolves, their frothy fins churning up the water along the edge of the lake, and while they weren't exactly in a position to attack, Maaike was sure eventually he'd attract predators who weren't bound to the water. She'd been tired of his noise, anyway, and a fist to his jaw was all it took to shut him up.
“Neme's bright tonight.” She wasn't usually the type to muse aloud, especially when she had only Cailean for company (Magda was circling their route up ahead, the odd cry piercing the night to alert Maaike to her location), but Lake Sybil (or any lake, for that matter) was creepy at night. The sound of gentle waves licking the grassy banks, the occasional splash of a fin warning her she wasn't alone... even Cailean's desultory snorts were starting to freak her out.
“Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”
The woman's scream brought Maaike to a halt, her whole body tensing as adrenaline shot through her. She searched the night, her gaze frantic, and had to adjust her grip on Cailean's reins when the azani pulled back, hard. “Shhh, shhh, it's okay.” She didn't feel like it was okay, though. Stories of wraiths and vlareons and all manner of beasts flickered through her mind (even knowing there were no actual wraith here).
Her protective instincts kicked in. Maaike's shrill whistle called Magda back to circle overhead as an early warning system, and she clicked her tongue; Cailean's ears flicked and he turned toward the scream, leading her there.
When she got there and saw who it was, Maaike could only groan. “Xanth damn it, not you.” But then her brain registered what her eyes were telling it: that woman's scream, a body on the ground, and the talkative Dracovarian on his butt. Maaike's prejudice put two and two together; her knees bent and her feet braced hip-width apart, she centred herself and clucked her tongue. At her left shoulder, Cailean snarled, and over their heads, Magda swooped low, claws out to attack. “Murderer!”